


Unquiet Memories

by Jenchantress_stories



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring!Dean, Hurt!Sam, Insomnia, Mentions of Rape, Sam Winchester in Lucifer's Cage, Suffering!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 21:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20121841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenchantress_stories/pseuds/Jenchantress_stories
Summary: The aftermath of an evil witch's magic leaves Sam unable to sleep. Haunted by his memories, Dean watches his brother coming undone.





	1. Chapter 1

The witch dances happily across the room, collecting the last bits and ingredients for her little magic trick. Sam and Dean are watching her, waiting for the right moment to turn the table. Dean's hands are tied with ropes to a post supporting the ceiling of the old wooden hut, which finds itself in the middle of nowhere. Sam meanwhile got tied to a chair with an oddly long backrest. A leather band prevents his head from moving, his wrists are tightened to the armrests as his feed to the chair's legs.

She's been waiting for this a long time, taking revenge for her sisters the Winchesters killed in the past years. _”This will be so much fun.”_ She sings while mixing everything together. Sam and Dean are not quite sure what she's up to, but nevertheless they'd like to prevent her from doing it.

Mumbling something to the mixture while stirring it with her finger, she moves towards Sam. Dean freaks out: _”Hey! HEY! Don't you dare putting any of this crap on my brother! I swear!”_ But the witch ignores him, painting some symbol on Sam's forehead with the dry, grey powder, just above the band that holds his head in place. 

Her voice is croaky, but she speaks in a soft tone: _”What I'm going to do to you, my precious boy, is taking a little trip around your memories. Let me see the dark stuff, your gruesome adventures, your loss and pain. Let me dig that all up for you, making you remember what you tried to forget and let's see how you feel after that.”_ Sam's eyes grew wide, he knows he got some very dark places in his mind, a lot of stuff he pushed down. _”No, no, no, no, don't!_ A feeble attempt to stop her, but that said, she places her palm on his forehead and closes her eyes. 

_”Let's start with the recent stuff... oh, is that Lucifer? There are quite a few memories, oh, there's your mum, she hasn't been too nice apparently, but you love her nevertheless.”_ Sam sees what she's seeing, he closed his eyes, trying to fight the mental intrusion, but she keeps going. _”This sweet young boy, Jack, he's causing a lot of trouble, right? But he looks so innocent.”_ For a while, she's just humming a tune. _”Oh, here you punched some hunters and demons, oh boy, the blood on your hands... All for Dean, right? … It seems I'm not the first one here, angel Ezekiel lived with you a while... and, hold on, what's this?”_

While the witch focuses on Sam, Dean quietly starts cutting the ropes, but they're thick and it takes him a few minutes. Anxiously he's watching Sam with his eyes shut, trying to fight the witch inside his mind.

_”This here is dark and messy, what are you hiding boy?”_  
_”No, please, don't... please”_ She seems to struggle gaining access, putting her other hand onto his head.  
_”Oh, don't be shy, my dear, share your darkest part with me.”_  
_”No, no! Please! NO!”_ Her face turns dark, pushing her magic deeper into her victim, gaining forcefully entrance to the memories that were once hidden behind a wall.

_”Ah, I see! A whole lot of more the great Lucifer himself.”_ Sam's face grimaced painfully as the witch enters these memories from the cage, opening them up, making them all present.  
_”You're in a cage... ouch, that was a nasty punch, now he's breaking your bones, uh, he broke your finger off your hand and another one... Now he's cutting into you, look at the artwork on your body. Beautiful! Such an artist! Lucky him, he can restore you and start all over again anytime. And this here! Skinning your face! He got a mirror for you to see! How generous. But let's go deeper. Some fire, some... oh... “_

_”NO! NO, NO, NO! Please, no! DON'T!”_ Sam shouts frantic and for a moment Dean stops, wondering what the witch found.  
_”You disgusting, little whore... He took you roughly, oh dear, what a creative man, all those poses and then... uh, that's gross, did you really? Oh, wow, boy he got you...”_  
Suddenly, Sam's screaming, tears are rolling down his face, he desperately tries to move, but in vain. She keeps talking, grinning, but Dean couldn't hear her anymore. She keeps pulling out one memory after another.

Dean finally managed to cut the rope, grabbing a sharp blade from her table and cutting her head of in one swift move. Despite her body crashing to the floor dead, Sam keeps screaming, still caught in this trip down memory lane. 

_”Sam!? Sammy?! I'm right here! Listen to me!”_ He wipes the mixture from Sam's forehead with his sleeve, then starting to untie his head, while his brother keeps crying, begging _no, no, no, please, no..._

Holding Sam's head tight with both his hands, he shouts at him: _”Hey! Sam! I'm here! Open your eyes! SAMMY!”_ Sam's still sobbing as he slowly opens his eyes, finding Dean's worried face in front of him. _”Hey, we're here, I got you.”_

_”The witch?”_ Sam asks with a sore voice.  
_”Dead.”_. Dean frees Sam and helping him up since he feels slightly dizzy. They walk up to the car together and Sam gets inside, while Dean's goes back, grabbing some books that appear useful before burning the witch's hut down. 

By the time he got back, Sam was still shivering, still taking deep breaths.  
_”You're okay?”_  
Sam nods slowly.  
_”It's a long ride, just sleep a little.”_  
Sam shakes his head.  
_”Afraid of closing your eyes?”_  
No answer at all.

During their long way back home, Sam didn't nod off once. It was still dark outside, it took another hour before the sun rose. He was quiet, but tense, focusing on his surroundings, staying alert all the time, checking the internet for other cases. Not once he even tried to relax. Back in the bunker, he doesn't seem to let his guard down either. After a proper shower, Dean finds him in the library. 

_”How are you feeling?”_  
_”I don't know... I feel like, if I'm not careful, those memories jump me, they'd come up again and again and I...”_ Sam struggles, feeling exhausted and haunted at the same time.  
_”I don't want to remember”_ He whispers, his voice failing. 

Dean grabs a bottle of whiskey from the shelf and two glasses. _”Let's have a drink, then. How many events did we bury with this stuff?”_  
_”Probably too many.”_ Knowing that this is the sad truth both of them can't help it but smile.

The witch's books they took along are quite old and well-used, containing some interesting, some nasty spells and the hours quietly pass while both were reading them. All afternoon, all evening, Sam was calm, the well-known surroundings of the bunker giving him an idea about a home for years now. Reading the ancient language used in some books, making notes of his own, losing himself between the pages, he forgets about the events of last night.

_”Okay, that's enough gross recipes for today.”_ Dean noisily shuts the big book in front of him, making Sam snapping back to the library as well. _”I'm going to get me some z's, what about you? You're alright? Feeling better now?”_

_”Yeah, I should probably do the same.”_ Stretching himself after hours sitting in the same position, Sam closes his tired eyes for a moment, just to find himself naked and in chains inside the cage, feeling Lucifer approaching from behind. He opens his eyes again, but the memories are still lingering, waiting for attention.

_”Sam?”_ It only took two seconds, suddenly his little brother looks pale and tense again, taking deep breaths. _”Still the memories?”_.  
He nods. _”I'll stay here, reading a little longer. Maybe I just need to get a little more tired.”_ Sam gives an encouraging smile to Dean, trying to convince himself that he will be fine in the end.  
_”If you want me to stay here, I can do that.”_ Dean offers, but Sam declines, hoping that the books will distract him again like they did until a few minutes ago.

_”No, go ahead, I'll be here.”_ Dean walks away, the sound of his footsteps slowly fading until the silence completely settles. He'd love to sleep, since two sleepless nights just lay behind them due to the latest case with the evil witch. But right now he's scared to face these images in his head. He tries to close his eyes for a second, but he can immediately feel the sizzling of his own skin burning. With a sigh, he continues reading about ancient witch's spells and portions.


	2. Part 2

Outside the dawn breaks and Sam's still at the same spot, his eyes tired, too tired to keep reading, his body exhausted and longing for a bed. It's no surprise for Dean to find his little brother there. 

_”I assume you didn't sleep.”_ Dean states with a worried voice as he enters the library in his grey robe.  
_”I can't... When I close my eyes only for a second...Dean, I...”_ There's desperation in his voice, mixed with helplessness.  
_”But no hallucinations, this time...?”_  
_”No! No, nothing... just memories. If I keep my eyes open and distract myself, there's nothing. But I'm getting too tired.”_  
_”Okay, then... Keep getting tired, no coffee or stuff. Hopefully, in a few hours, I'll find you drooling over the table. Until then, pancakes?”_

They walk into the kitchen. Sam sits on the table, leaning against the wall. His eyelids are heavy. It's the third night without sleep. The last time he slept was on their way to the witch, up north to Lolo, Montana, followed by a night of research, a day of interviews and following clues, a night reluctantly spent in the witch's hut. From her little trip to his head onwards, it's been impossible to close his eyes for more than a second. 

Dean watches him closing his eyes just to open them quickly a second later, sometimes with a startled noise from his younger brother, suffering a few minutes from micro-sleep. He tries to give in, tries to keep them shut, but everytime a different, horrible picture comes up. How Lucifer carved him open, showing him each and every organ he has, including his brain that the devil pulled through his nose. 

The way Lucifer fucked him, ripping him open with every penetration, sometimes while forced to masturbate. _”NO! PLEASE! NOO!”_ Sam jumps from his chair after having closed his eyes for a few seconds. Dean places the full plate with pancakes on the table, trying to calm him down again.  
_”Hey, Sammy, you're here. Shhh, it's okay, you are right here with me. You hear me?”_

Sam sits down again, tears in his eyes. Dean keeps talking to him.  
_”Maybe we should try a stronger drink, later on. Or I can get you some sleeping pills, they'll knock you right out, okay? We'll fix this.”_ Sam nods. Somehow, they always find a way. 

After munching at least half a pancake (Dean ate 5 in the same period of time), Sam settles in his room, opening Netflix, choosing some documentary about nature, narrated by the soothing voice of David Attenborough. Lying on his bed cosily, listening to facts and description of several fishes he finds his eyelids dropping again until he sees Lucifer spreading his legs apart. 

Nothing changed over that day. He watched one documentary after another without remembering anything. Inbetween Dean came in to check on him, deciding that he needs those pills and left to get them. 

Dean comes back while re-watching documentary no.2 which is about life in the desert.  
_”Still awake?”_ Dean's soft voice reaches Sam before he enters his room. Opening the door while knocking, he finds Sam on his bed with his laptop, looking genuinely exhausted now with his dark eyes and unsteady posture, shaking his head to answer Dean's question.

_”Here's medicine for you and medicine for me.”_ He grins as he pulls out a box with pills and a new bottle of whiskey.  
_”You remember the cute blonde from the pharmacy, Mindy? She got me something slightly stronger, not the usual crap.”_ Sam tries to look impressed, but he's not sure if he nails it.  
_”So, you'll get ready for bed and I'll get you some fresh water.”_ Sounding optimistic, Dean leaves the room. Sam puts the laptop on his table, making himself comfortable on the bed. He takes the box of pills, but reading the long, medical name is already difficult as is opening the box, but he manages it in the end.

Putting the glass of water next to Sam, he watches him swallowing the pill.  
_”Are you going to stay here all night?”_ Dean sits himself on the chair next to Sam's bed.  
_”Just making sure you actually sleep now. Do you want a lullaby?”_  
_”I had enough nightmares already...”_

At first, Sam is closing and opening his eyes as he did in the kitchen this morning, but eventually he slowly drifts away, becoming quiet. For a moment, Dean's relieved until he sees Sam twitch, his body starts to move, to thrash around. _”No, NO! No no no, please, don't! NO!”_

_”Sam! Sammy! Wake up! Hey, come on, it's okay, you're here, you hear me?!”_ Laying his hands on his shoulders to calm him down only ending with Sam starting to scream in pain and panic. Tears start to stream down his face while he begs for whatever to stop. His attempts to wake his little brother up fail, since the pill is doing a great job. He tries to keep him in bed, preventing him from hurting himself while cursing his idea with the sleeping pills at all, forcing Sam downright into his nightmares. 

Arching his back, throwing his arms around aimlessly, Dean has a hard time to protect Sam from harming himself accidentally. He tries to push him down but any kind of restrain seem to make it worse, ending with Sam reacting and crying even more frantic. _”No, please, not this again! Not this again! Anything but THIS...”_

The whole disaster goes on for about three hours until the pill wears off and Sam wakes up. Taking a deep breath in and opening his eyes wide, finding his big brother standing by his bed, exhausted but relieved. Soaked in sweat, Sam sits himself up in the bed, Dean sits down on the chair next to his bed, catching his own breath. 

_”I'm sorry Sam, I thought...”_  
_”It's okay. I didn't expect this either, but apparently my brain works through all this shit while I'm asleep now. Did I hurt you?”_  
_”No, I'm fine...”_. There's a moment of silence.  
_”Sam, how many days did you last when you had Lucifer riding shotgun?”_  
_”I think it's been about six or seven days.”_  
_”So, we still got some time to figure something out.”_  
Sam smiles at Dean's attempt to make the situation looking less screwed than it is. 

_”Of course, I could just punch you and you'll be knocked out for a few hours.”_ Dean suggests with a grin. _”I'd rather check some books first.”_  
_”Alright, so I'm going to get us some coffee and I'll see you back in the library.”_

Dean walks to the kitchen and misses the struggle Sam has to find his balance before being able to walk to the library. He needs to take a few deep breaths before he gains control over his body.

With several books that might have a solution they're back at their table in the library. To keep his concentration up, even Sam got a cup of sweet, hot coffee. Searching for a solution isn't an easy task since the problem itself is only minor supernatural. While doing research, Sam's calm again, his mind somewhere else. Dean oppresses several comments he'd usually say, but he's rather glad that his brother has some quiet time. Only when Sam stretches himself, Dean starts talking again.

_”Anything?”_  
_”Nothing useful yet. There are some spells, but they either have no reverse spells, meaning I'd be asleep forever or they require some impossible ingredients, like Lobelia remyi, an extinct plant.”_  
_”Maybe Cass can put you to sleep? That'd buy us more time.”_  
_”The last time he help me out of this situation he lost his sanity for months.”_  
_”Another way might be talking about that stuff in your mind, sorting it out...”_ Dean suggests with a quiet voice, knowing exactly that Sam doesn't want to talk about it.  
_”I'm not even sure I can, Dean.... I mean, first of all, it'll take too long. We both have no idea how long I've been there, I mean, your four month were 40years so in my case...”_  
Dean nods in agreement. The cage is a whole different level of hell. One and a half year could be less than 180years, but it also could be a lot more.

_”And second, I don't want to share this pile of crap with you. I don't want to put this on you, you know? I mean, I...”_ Sam sighs, tensing up against the lingering memories. 

Before the mood in the room becomes even heavier, Sam gets up and heads to the bathroom after the coffee went all the way through his body.  
_”We find something.”_ Sam smiles at Dean.  
_”I know we do.”_ Dean smiles back.

As Sam walks away, Dean notices his unsteady and slow steps but somehow he manages to come back with two full cups of coffee. Enough for some more hours of research. At some point in the afternoon, Sam gets interrupted by the small noise of snoring from his napping brother, who's head rests on his arms. It's kind of funny how soft Dean looks like that. He knows he has to rely on Dean because he can feel the exhaustion taking hold of his body and mind. 

Waking up an hour later, Sam greets him with a friendly _Good morning_ and another fresh cup of coffee. While taking the first sip he realises in what a bad shape his brother is by now. His face is pale, his eyes dark and small, his posture looks unsteady as well as his movements, even the way he breathes appears unsteady. 

Sam can feel himself coming undone and both know they are about to run out of time. But the day is about to end and they are still at square one. Sam sighs loudly when he gets up but has to support himself on the table. 

_”Hold on, where are you going?”_ Dean asks worried.  
_”Getting more... of that...”_ Sam points at the cup.  
_”How about you stay here and I get you some?”_  
_”Need to walk, it helps. My head is like...”_ He makes a vague gesture with his hand.  
_”Okay, be careful then. Shout if you need anything.”_

Sam just nods and moves forward, using every wall and furniture available for support. Dean just waits for the sound of a crash, but it's all quiet and it stays quiet for several minutes until Dean has an uneasy feeling. He gets up to check on Sam, taking the shortest way to the kitchen, but he's not there.  
_”Sam? Sammy?”_ halls through the bunker, but without an answer. Walking up to the bathroom and his room just to find them empty as well. He checks the library and war room again, shouting Sam's name, running up and down the many halls of the bunker until he hears a weak whimper, a broken, small voice begging. Sam.

Sitting in the middle of the floor near the dungeon, he appears to be fighting weakly with his arms against some invisible restraints, sobbing and asking for mercy. _”Anything but this, please... I can't...please, you can do anything, but not...”_ When Dean approaches, Sam doesn't see him, despite his eyes open. He doesn't react when Dean's calling him, but the moment he touches his arm, Sam screams hysterically in pain and starts thrashing again. 

Dean just stares, feeling helpless and without any idea what to do. Sam whimpers, begs, cries and Dean can't intervene, can't make it stop. It's probably just a question of a few hours until he completely collapses. Maybe he won't see the sun rise again. His heart breaks seeing his little brother in such a feeble state. He falls on his knees, right in front of Sam.

By now, his brother's body is too exhausted and weak to do any harm either to Dean or himself. Running out of options he just grabs him, pulling his head to his chest, caressing his hair and hugs him tight, ignoring Sam's attempt to push him away, to free himself. 

For a moment the sound of sobbing and crying echoes between the grey walls. The sound of loss and pain.

The beating of Dean's heart against Sam's ear, soft and steady, the smell of home and safety coming from his body. Sam's screams turn into sobs then into whimper before they stop completely. His arms fall softly, his body going limb, becoming heavy in Dean's arms. 

The echo stops and silence embraces the two brothers, thick and deafening tranquillity. 

For a moment, he doesn't dare to check, doesn't dare to figure out why his little brother is suddenly completely still. His whole body weight in Dean's arms. _”Sammy?”_ He whispers softly, anxiously waiting for a reply but in vain. Nothing but cold silence until a soft, warm breeze tickles his arm, so very soft, hardly noticeable. Followed by another one with a soft movement of Sam's chest. 

He sleeps. His little brother sleeps in his arms. He just fell asleep. Soft and small like a child, like his baby brother used to.

Dean doesn't dare to move, to get up and bring him to a bed, so he just pulls them a few inches to the wall where it is still cold and far away from comfortable, but he'll stay there for as long as it takes, keeping each other warm. Keeping each other safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. ♥


End file.
